Poly Want to Crack Her?
by Gardener
Summary: Veronica is questioned for killing Aaron after he escapes from prison. Set the autumn after LitB. Pardon the pun in the title.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Veronica's voiceovers are in italics.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Detective Finneran, and this is my partner Detective Montez. State police."

"Afternoon, I'm Sgt. Peters, and this Detective Baker. We're with LAPD, robbery/homicide. And this is ADA Simmons. He's here to determine whether to seek an indictment for murder in this case."

"Well, technically, I just make a recommendation to my boss. But I think he's likely to decide based on the outcome of this interview. Also, let me introduce Sheriff Don Lamb; he's joining us from Balboa county. And last, but certainly not least, let me introduce our examiner, Diane Jaffee."

"Pleasure to meet you all. Sheriff," asked Jaffee, "I understand you actual know our shooter personally."

"Much to my regret, let me tell you."

"It's hard to believe she could kill a man," replied Diane as she looked at Veronica through the one-way mirror. "She looks like a little girl."

"Don't let her fool you. She may be cute, but she's pretty hard-boiled. If anyone could beat a polygraph, it's her."

"Why don't you let me worry about that, Sheriff," replied Jaffee. "Well, we've kept her waiting long enough."

Veronica fiddled with her hair, picked at imaginary pieces of lint on her clothing, and generally made a show of appearing just nervous enough. _If you look too nervous,_ she thought, _they think you're guilty. But you have to look a little nervous. That, after all, is why they leave you alone in the interrogation room for all this time, while they watch you from behind the mirror._ Then the door opened. _Showtime,_ thought Veronica.

"Good morning Miss Mars. I'm Diane Jaffee. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," replied Veronica pleasantly, as she shook Jaffee's proffered hand.

"Would you like some water or coffee before we get started?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you." _Fine with keeping my bladder empty while being questioned for a capital crime._

"Well, then, before we get started, let me ask you, do you know anything about what a polygraph is or how it works?"

"A little. My dad used to be a cop, and he's told me a little about them." _Also, I've read three different books on the subject._

"Like what?"

"Well, that they measure your pulse, your breathing, and how much you sweat, and some of them measure arm and leg movements too, and if you try to lie, then the measurements change."

"Did your father ever tell you what he thought about how effective they are?"

"He said that they were a useful tool for investigation, especially now that they've gone digital," answered Veronica as she glanced at Jaffee's laptop. "He always thought it was pretty silly that they weren't admissible in court. Oh, and he also said that he thought the polygraph was much better than voice-analysis." _And almost as good as palm-reading._

"Good then. If you're ready, we'll get started. Why don't you move your chair over to the wall, and could you hand me your jacket? I'll need to be able to put the breathing sensors around your chest and midsection. I'll go hang it up. Please make sure not to touch the machine while I'm gone. It's very important."

"Alright," began Diane once she had finished hooking Veronica up to the polygraph sensors. "So to start, is your name Veronica Mars?"

"Yes."

"Veronica, have you ever stolen anything?"

_Aside from stealing evidence from the Sheriff's Department, students' files from the school administration, and medical records from Dr. Levine's?_ "No."

"Never?"

"No."

"'No' meaning you have, or 'no' meaning you haven't?"

"'No' meaning I haven't."

"Have you ever broken any other law, even in a small way?"

_Besides planting evidence in Logan's locker, manufacturing fake I.D.s, using a fake I.D. to masquerade as Lilly Kane, forging my mother's death certificate, sabotaging Dick's car, plus innumerable instances of purchasing and consuming alcohol?_ "No."

"You never jaywalked, or parked your car illegally?"

"I've jaywalked."

"Have you ever lied to avoid getting trouble?"

_More times than I can remember._ "No."

"You never told your parents you were at the library or something when you really out with a boy?"

"No." _The key to beating the polygraph is to lie in response to the calibration questions. The examiner will assume you're lying in response to those questions, and interpret the measurements on the machine as what it looks like when you lie. So if you actually tell the truth, it will also look like you're lying later, even if you're telling the truth. If you lie, though, and think about all the ways you're lying, it will set the bar much higher, so it will look like you're telling the truth later, even if you're lying._

"Did you kill Aaron Echolls?"

"Yes."

"When did you hear that he had escaped?"

"It was around noon. We were getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner—"

"We?"

"My stepmother Alicia and me. We were in the kitchen preparing dinner. My dad, my two stepbrothers, and my boyfriend were in the living room watching the game."

"Your boyfriend wasn't spending Thanksgiving with his own family?"

"He doesn't have much of a family."

"Why not?"

"He's never been close with his sister, and his parents are both dead."

"How did they die?"

"His mother jumped off the Coronado Bridge, and I shot his father last night."

"You're dating Logan Echolls? The son of the man who tried to kill you?"

"He's not like his father."

"I guess not. Let's move on then. What happened next?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: this time, the italics signify flashbacks.

"The doorbell rang. My dad went to answer it. I saw that it was Deputy Sacks, with two men I didn't recognize. Sacks said that they were with the state police. When my father asked what was going on, one of the state troopers said that Aaron Echolls had escaped while being transferred to Pelican Bay."

"_What?" yelled Logan as he came storming out of the living room. "He escaped last night and you're just telling us now?"_

"_Logan, calm down," said Veronica as she came out of the kitchen._

"_Logan? Are you Logan Echolls?" Asked Detective Montez._

"_This is him," said Sacks. "Boss?" said Sacks into his radio._

"_Yeah?" crackled back Lamb over the receiver._

"_We found the Echolls kid. He's at the Mars'."_

"_Fabulous. Get him over here."_

"_Mr. Echolls," asked Finneran, "has your father tried to contact you at all?"_

"_No, and even he's not crazy enough to think that I would help him."_

"_Nonetheless, we'd like you to return to your house with us, in case he tries to contact you there. We've already established a trace on your phone line, but we need you there to answer if he calls, to keep him talking."_

"_Did you have a warrant to do that?" asked Keith Mars._

"_I have a copy right here."_

"_Dad, I want to go with him."_

"_I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey."_

"_He needs me. Plus, the place will be crawling with state troopers and deputies. It'll be perfectly safe."_

"_Keith, we're concerned that he also might try to come after you or Veronica, so Lamb has instructed us to keep a couple of deputies circling the block in a few cruisers. Okay?"_

"_Thank you."_

"_Let me just grab my purse, and we'll go."_

"Why was it so important to take your purse with you?"

"It had my pistol in it. With Aaron on the loose, I'd feel safer armed."

"When did you get the gun?"

"After Aaron nearly killed me. It was very hard for me to feel safe again after that. I felt better once my dad got me the gun and started teaching me to shoot."

"You have a concealed-carry permit?"

"Of course. It's in my wallet."

"What happened after you arrived at the Echolls' estate?"

"We were sitting on the couch. The staff all had off for the holiday, but the place was filled with state troopers and deputies. Logan and I were both upset…."

"_How long do they expect us to just sit around here waiting for dear old Dad to turn up or try to call?"_

"_Honey, try to relax," said Veronica quietly as she leaned against Logan on the couch. "Say, Detective, Montez, is it? How did he escape?"_

"_He was being transferred from county jail to Pelican Bay prison and the bus got into an accident on the freeway. He just ran for it."_

"_Why did it take so long for you to find us?"_

"_Our first move was to establish roadblocks and a perimeter. When we didn't catch him after about ten hours or so, we started worrying that he'd gotten by us."_

"_Then you started worrying. Wonderful."_

"_Logan, please, try to relax," repeated Veronica. In a whisper, she continued "why don't we go into the study. Maybe it'll be less stressful away from all the cops."_

"_Being alone with you is probably not going to help me calm down," whispered Logan with a smile, "but I like the way you think." Raising his voice, Logan continued "Detectives, I'm going to go into the study. There's an extension in there, so I'll be able to answer if he does call, and you'll still be able to trace it, but he won't be able to hear you all stumbling around in the background."_

"_Fair enough," replied Finneran._

"_I'll go with him," said Veronica._

_In the study, Logan put his arms around Veronica and led her toward the desk. As she leaned back on it, he started kissing her gently. As she ran her hands over his back, he whispered, "You're right, this is much better."_

"_Logan, hold on a second."_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I hate to tell you this, but I had an ulterior motive in getting us in here and away from all the cops."_

"_So did I," answered Logan with a slightly lascivious grin._

"_Logan, I'm serio—"_

"_So am I," as he kissed her more forcefully. He started kissing her on her cheek and her jaw, and then down her neck, and ran his left hand down her side and lifted her tank top out of the top of her jeans._

"_Logan, I'm not kidding a—ooh," her breath caught in her throat as his lips found the tender spot on her neck just an inch-and-half below her left ear. His right hand had somehow found its way down her thigh and was caressing the back of her knee._

"_Logan, stop it," Veronica insisted as firmly as she still could._

"_Okay. I'm sorry," he said, standing up and helping her to her feet. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."_

"_Uncomfortable was the last thing you were making me feel, but I needed to talk to you seriously."_

"So what happened immediately after you and Logan entered the study?" asked Jaffee.

"I sat down at the desk and started going through the drawers. Logan asked me what I was looking for."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I was searching for his father's address book."

"_Try at the bottom of the top-left drawer. Why are you looking for it though?" asked Logan. "Do you think Aaron is going to try to contact his agent or something?"_

"_Not his agent. Think about this: your father—"_

"_F-word!"_

"_Sorry. The murdering-S.O.B.-who-should-burn-in-hell has one of the most famous faces in the world. So where is he going to hide?"_

"_You think maybe he's not trying to get away. That he just wants payback on you and your dad?"_

"_The thought's crossed my mind, but even Lamb knew to prepare for that, so he'd have to know he'd be walking into a trap. What if he is planning to escape? He'd have to change his appearance. And I'm not just talking about a dye-job and tinted contacts."_

"_Plastic surgery." Veronica gave him a finger-gun. "Between him and my mother, they had at least four cosmetic surgeons they used."_

"_Unfortunately, none of these entries have more than a number and a first name. Some of them are just a number. See if you can help me figure out who's who."_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: again, italics signify flashbacks.

"It took a little work, but we eventually sorted through all the names and numbers," continued Veronica.

"Were there in fact four plastic surgeons in Aaron's little black book?"

"As far as we could tell. I ran a check on the four names using one of the P.I. search engines my Dad subscribes to. Only one of them came back looking like a likely prospect."

"What do you mean 'likely prospect'?"

"Well this one, Dr. Leclerc, had had his medical license suspended once, and he'd been in trouble with the law. He'd been arrested three times, twice in Vegas, once in Reno. No charges had ever been filed, but still…. Also, the trips to Vegas and Reno might have been for doctors' conventions or something, but I thought maybe he liked to gamble."

"So?"

"So this Leclerc seemed like the kind of guy who might be willing to help a prisoner escape, if the price was right."

"What did you then?"

"I decided to drive to his office in L.A., just to check things out."

"Why didn't you tell the police or the sheriff?"

"I don't know. It just seemed like such a long shot. I figured if I found anything out, I could tell them then."

"You weren't concerned about going after Aaron Echolls all by yourself?"

"You have to realize, I wasn't expecting to get there at just the right time. I figured that he would have probably come and gone by the time I got there."

"So what were you hoping to find?"

"Evidence that Leclerc was working on Thanksgiving."

"What would that prove?"

"Not much by itself, but I figured that, under the circumstances, it would be enough to go to the police with, and then they could search Leclerc's offices for some sign that Aaron had been there. It has to be impossible to operate on someone without leaving that person's DNA all over the place, right? And then they could find out exactly what Leclerc had done for Aaron, what he would look like now, or once the bandages came off or the swelling went down, or whatever."

"So why didn't you have Logan go with you?"

"We knew the police wanted him to be at home in case Aaron tried to contact him."

"Why didn't you take your own car?"

"I'd left it back at my place. I'd ridden over with Logan."

"So Logan offered to let you use one of his cars?"

"Yes."

"Why would someone like Logan Echolls own a Honda Accord, though?"

"He bought it last summer, after his father was arrested. The paparazzi were after him constantly, and he thought getting a car that wasn't so noticeable would make it easier to avoid them."

"But why not take one of the nicer ones?"

"I wasn't looking for luxury; I just wanted to get there."

"So you drove straight there?"

"Yes."

_Veronica pulled into a parking space on a side street, out of sight of most passersby. She got her pistol out of her purse and strapped it to her belt, in front so it could be seen. She unbuttoned the holster strap so she could draw it quickly if she had too, but left the safety on. The neighborhood wasn't quite the South-Central you see on TV, but it wasn't the nicest area either. Next she pulled out a wig. She had decided to go with wavy brown this time. She pulled it on over her head, and used a make-up mirror to make sure it was properly in place, with no stray blond strands showing from underneath. Then she got out her colored contacts: brown, to match the hair. She put them in and then checked to make sure that no blue was showing around the edges. Finally, she tugged her boots off and inserted thick insoles into each before putting them back on. The insoles wouldn't make her look that much taller, but anything that changed her appearance even slightly could make the difference. Satisfied, she slipped on a pair of black leather gloves and got out of the car and headed around the corner into the pawn shop._

"_When illegally purchasing a hopefully untraceable firearm that is likely to be used in a major crime very soon after the purchase," thought Veronica to herself, "it is best to be as unrecognizable as possible. Of course, when your dad is an ex-cop who does a lot of work for the public defender and for bail-bondsmen, it's not hard to find out about places where you might be able to discreetly make such purchases, and luckily enough, some of them are open on the holidays."_

"_Leroy?" asked Veronica as she walked into the store._

"_Well, it seems you have the advantage of me, young lady," replied the elderly black man behind the counter, "especially exercising your second-amendment rights as you are," he continued with a glance toward her pistol._

"_I like having the advantage. I'm actually in the market for a playmate for Signore Beretta here," she answered, patting the holster._

"_Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there. You see, I am not a licensed firearms dealer, and it would be a felony for me to sell you a gun." _

"_Relax, do I look like five-oh?"_

"_They never do."_

"_If I were a cop, this'd be entrapment anyway."_

"_If I could help you, what sort of equipment would you be looking for?"_

"_Something untraceable, but also something just a little flashy, with panache."_

"_If I did sell firearms, I suppose I would go to the trouble of making sure they couldn't be traced back to me, or anyone else, considering, again, the felonious nature of such commerce. What did you have in mind when you requested 'panache'?"_

"_I was thinking, say, a Baby Eagle?"_

"_I see the young lady is of discerning taste. I would so like to help you. I did happen to test-fire such a piece not long ago; I don't remember where I got it. Remarkable thing, though, really. I probed the inside of the barrel with a metal instrument, just to get a feel for how polygonal rifling differed from the traditional. The only flaw I noticed was that, when I fired the weapon the first time, the movement of the components rubbed away all the serial numbers."_

"_They don't make 'em like they used to."_

"_And IMI usually prides itself on the quality of its craftsmanship. Ah well. I truly am sorry I can't help you."_

"_How much?"_

"_Five hundred."_

"_Done," replied Veronica, handing over the cash she had borrowed from Logan before she left. _

"_Paper or plastic?"_

"_Both please."_

_After Veronica got back to her car, she made sure her purchase was completely wrapped in the plastic bag, and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Only once she had driven a few miles did she take off the wig and put it in the brown paper bag. She stopped again to take out the contacts and toss them, along the box of contacts, in after the wig. Adding the insoles to the bag, she folded the top of the bag down to close it, and threw it and its contents into a trash can on a street corner. Finally, she continued on her way to Leclerc's._

"So what did you do once you got to the doctor's office?"

"I parked down the street, on the opposite side, and waited."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: as before, italics represent flashbacks. Also, as a personal note, I'd like to thank everyone who's been so kind as to review this story, as well as the other piece I've written. I value feedback very much, so please tell me what you think of my work, whether you think it's good or bad.

"About what time was it when you got there?" asked Jaffee.

"A little after 6:00," answered Veronica.

"How do you know?"

"I checked my watch as soon as I had parked."

"So it was still light out?"

"No, it was just about completely dark."

_Veronica crouched down in her car. She had a pretty good view of the entrance to Leclerc's building from here. She had already driven around the block. The building had no back door, but there was a side entrance at the end of an otherwise blind alley extending off the main street; there was a garbage can and a recycling bin right outside the side entrance. She could only see the entrance to the alley from her vantage point though. Her watch read 4:45; the sun was just setting._

"_About five minutes later than the last time I checked," thought Veronica to herself. "Chances are, if he's going to show at all, it won't be 'til it gets dark."_

_By 5:10, it had gotten dark enough that Veronica could see that there was a light on in Leclerc's office. "An encouraging sign," she thought._

_Finally, just after 6:00, a taxicab pulled up in front of Leclerc's building. A man wearing a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses got out._

"And just as you got there, you saw Aaron Echolls getting out of a cab?"

"Yes, but I wasn't sure right away that it was him. He was the right height and build, but he had his hood pulled down, and he was wearing sunglasses."

"Sunglasses? In the dark? Did you think that was odd?"

"I thought it was an attempt at disguise."

"What did you do then?"

_Veronica got out of the car and drew her pistol. "Aaron!" she shouted at the figure walking toward Leclerc's door. Startled, he turned and looked at her. As soon as he lifted his face toward her, she was certain it was him. She leveled her Beretta at him at yelled "Don't move, Aaron!" He took off down the sidewalk. _

"You were sure it was him? Even though you could only see the lower part of his face?"

"Yes."

"How could you have been so sure?"

"He had a very recognizable face, and I'll never forget it."

"Why don't you go on then?"

_Veronica chased him down the street, but stayed on the opposite side of the line of parked cars from him, not wanting to get too close. At a distance, the gun gave her the advantage. As she ran, she could feel her heart slamming against her ribs. Her field of vision started to narrow. "Tunnel vision is the enemy," thought Veronica. "Don't let the adrenaline control you." _

_When Aaron reached the opening of the alleyway, he turned down it. "Perfect," thought Veronica, "running right to the dead end." Veronica slipped between the bumpers of two parked cars and stopped at the entrance to the alley._

_Aaron stopped and turned to face Veronica. His hood had fallen back off his head, while his shades had clattered to the ground when he turned down the alley. She could look him in the eye now. _

"_Freeze Aaron!"_

_Aaron looked at Veronica and the gun pointed at his chest. He raised his hands and panted out "alright, I give up."_

"_Drop it Aaron!" shouted Veronica as loudly as she could._

"_Wha—" Veronica shot four rounds._

"He reached the end of the alley and turned around. I saw him reach into his pocket for something."

"What was it?"

"I saw he was pulling a gun."

"What kind?"

"I couldn't tell at that point."

"What did you do?"

"I yelled for him to drop it."

"Did he?"

"No."

"What did you do then?"

"I fired at him."

"How many times?"

"Four."

"What did you do then?"

"I walked toward him and crouched down to check his pulse."

_Veronica stalked toward Aaron's body, making sure to keep her gun on him. She knew she had hit him four times in the center of his chest, but there was a chance he was wearing body armor. As she got closer, though, she could see a dark bloodstain on his sweatshirt, right over his heart. The blood was just seeping out though, and he wasn't breathing. _

_As she got nearer, she turned so that her left side was facing away from the entrance and toward Aaron. She crouched, and, with one hand, she patted Aaron down to make sure he hadn't been armed. Finding nothing, she reached into her pocket and fished out the Baby Eagle. She took the pistol out of the plastic bag and placed it in Aaron's hand. She got up and put the plastic bag in the recycling bin. _

"He was dead?"

"Yes. It looked like I'd hit him in the heart all four times."

"That's some shooting."

"I'd been practicing."

"What happened next?"

"Just as I was getting up, the service entrance opened and a man in a lab coat stuck his head out."

"_Dr. Leclerc?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Don't move," said Veronica, pointing her gun at him. "I'm placing you under citizen's arrest."_

"_I-is he…dead?" asked Leclerc._

"_You're the doctor. Now get down on the ground. No, on the other side of the body." Once Leclerc lay prone, Veronica took out her cell phone and called 911._

"So I called the police and waited for them to arrive."

"What did you tell them?"

"The same story I just told you."

"Well, thank you very much. I think we're done for now. I'll just unhook you from the machine, and then I'll need to ask you to wait in here while I review the test results with my colleagues.

"Of course," answered Veronica.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, here's the final chapter. Italics are back to representing Veronica's voiceovers. I'd just like to say thanks again to everyone who's reviewed this story, and I'm glad you all seemed to have liked it. I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

Diane Jaffee walked back into the room where ADA Simmons was waiting with Sheriff Lamb, Sergeant Peters, and Detectives Baker, Finneran, and Montez.

"Well?" asked Simmons.

"She lied in response to some of the initial calibration questions—"

"I could've told you that," interrupted Lamb.

"But that's normal," continued Jaffee curtly. "She passed the rest of the test with flying colors. She's telling the truth."

"So it's your assessment that this was a righteous shooting?"

"No question."

"Tell me you're not taking this seriously."

"Do you have a problem, Lamb?" asked Jaffee.

"Yeah, I have a problem. Are any of you seriously buying that she just happened to show up just when Echolls did? She had that place staked out! She went alone so there'd be no witnesses."

"We canvassed the neighborhood," interjected Baker. "No one recalled seeing her car parked outside before 6:00."

"No one was looking! And who would have noticed an Accord anyway? Why do you think she took such a nondescript car?"

"What difference would that make?" shot back Baker. "The key fact is that Echolls pulled a gun on her."

"That's what she says."

"That what the polygraph says," replied Jaffee, no longer even bothering to conceal the edge in her voice.

"And I'm telling you, that girl lies like she breathes. She could beat a polygraph easily."

"Look," said Peters with a smile, "I'm sure that by the standards of the Balboa Sheriff's Department, she's a hardened criminal, but—"

"Hey, I may not be the almighty LAPD, but at least I know a drop piece when I see one. Come to think of it, I would think the LAPD would too."

"Why don't you go—"

"Enough!" barked Simmons. "Look, Baker, didn't you say that the neighbors said they heard a girl's voice yell 'drop it,' like she says she said?"

"Are you kidding? Even Leclerc confirmed that. Says it's what brought him to the door in the first place, even before the gunshots."

"I'm sure she did yell that," said Lamb. "She wanted everyone to hear her yell that."

"Look," said Simmons. "Let me get this straight. You're saying that she drove to L.A., staked out Leclerc's office, waited for Echolls to show, chased him into the alley, shouted for him to drop a gun he didn't have so that any witnesses would hear her say that, then shot him four times in cold blood, and then planted a gun in his hand. And then beat a polygraph. Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Okay, let's say I believed you, which right now I don't. I'd still have to persuade a jury that this girl is a cold-blooded killer. Do you have any actual evidence that I might use?"

"Trace the gun. You find out where that nine came from, you'll find out whether it was bought by a six-foot man or a five-foot girl."

"Good luck," said Montez. "The lab's had no luck raising the serial numbers, and someone took a wire or something to the inside of the barrel, so the ballistics have been altered. There's no match to anything in the system."

"Then that's that. I'm going to recommend to the D.A. that we not pursue this matter any further."

"Listen to me," anwered Lamb, desperation audible in his voice. "You don't know about this case. Look, she had plenty of reasons to hate this guy, after everything he did to her, but—"

"I read the papers. You've got plenty of reason to hate her, or her father at any rate. He humiliated you by solving it after you'd put Jake Kane's fall guy on death row. Is this just about getting back at your old boss?"

"You just know what was on TV. Keith Mars wasn't the one who solved this case—"

"Right, sure. You're the misunderstood hero."

"What? No—"

"This conversation is over. I need to go call my office."

When the door opened and Lamb came in, Veronica looked up and gave him her least sincere smile. "Why, Deputy Lamb, how nice to see you again."

"Hey kid. So the L.A. county D.A. has decided not to press charges. Congratulations, you've got them all convinced."

"How frustrating for you."

"Look, kid. I can't say I blame you. Someone did to me what Aaron Echolls did to you, I'd want to kill him too. And I wouldn't be above leaving a drop piece in his hand."

"Wow. You sound really twisted Lamb. You probably shouldn't be in law enforcement."

"Here's the thing, though, kid. It gets easier. You'll probably have trouble sleeping tonight. Probably see him begging for his life. But the dreams'll go away. And the next time, and the time after that, there won't even be any nightmares. Hell of a thing, to kill a man."

"Yeah, I saw Unforgiven too. I love Eastwood's work. If I'm not being charged, can I go now?"

"Sure kid. Your Dad's waiting outside to take you home. Your boyfriend's waiting with him. I wonder how he'll feel about all this."

"Your concern for my romantic life is touching, if creepy" shot back Veronica as she got up and headed for the door.

"I wasn't talking about Logan. I'll be seeing you kid."

"Not if I see you first."

When Veronica got outside, Logan rushed up and hugged her tightly. "Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.

"I'm fine sweetheart. Are you alright?" she whispered back.

"I wish I could've been the one to do it, but otherwise this is my best Thanksgiving ever."

"I'm glad," she said, smiling up at him.

"Look, your dad's going to drive you home, but I'll call you as soon as I get in, okay? And thank you."

Veronica walked over to her father, waiting by his car. The embraced gently. "Dad, I—"

"We'll talk about this later, honey. Let's just get in the car," said Keith.

Once they were on their way back to Neptune, Veronica tried again. "Look, Dad," she began.

"Veronica." His voice was tense. "In all my years as a cop, and as a private detective, I've never fired a gun in anger."

"I know."

"Most cops go their entire careers without even drawing their guns in anger." His voice was breaking.

"I know, Dad."

"We're never going to talk about this again. You're going to have to live with what you did." Keith was clearly fighting back tears at this point.

"I'm sorry Daddy." Veronica's voice was barely a whisper, and she wasn't fighting the tears.

As they drove the rest of the way home in silence, Veronica stared out the window, unable to look at her father.

_So here's one of those classic riddles for you. A frightened, desperate man runs down an alley trying to escape a gun-toting killer. He comes to a dead end, turns, and surrenders. She murders him in cold blood. So the riddle is, how does she sleep that night? The answer? That's easy. She thinks of the scar tissue all over her father's body, and those little round scars on her boyfriend's arms, and her best friend's blood seeping out from a wound that will never scar. Then she shuts her eyes and sleeps like the righteous._

The End.


End file.
